Ron Weasley and the Heir of Slytherin
by Snarky64
Summary: How different would things have been if it had been Ron who was on the other side of the rock-fall when Lockhart's spell backfired in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets?


'The adventure ends here, boys!' he said. 'I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you two _tragically_ lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body. Say goodbye to your memories!'

He raised Ron's Spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled, '_Obliviate!'_

The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb.

**'Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets' p.224**

**© J.K. Rowling**

How different would things have been if it had been Ron who was on the other side of the rock-fall in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets?

_A re-imagining, with liberal use of the original descriptions and dialogue from the book, all owned by J.K. Rowling herself._

~oOo~

**Ron Weasley and the Heir of Slytherin**

Ron ran and fell over the snake skin just as great chunks of ceiling thundered to the floor. He coughed in a cloud of stone dust and realised he was standing alone staring at a solid wall of broken rock.

"Harry!" he shouted. "Harry, are you OK?"

"I'm fine!" answered Harry's voice, muffled by the rock-fall. "Lockhart's not though – he got knocked out by your wand."

"Well, old McGonagall said it would happen," said Ron miserably as he found a tiny gap in the rock so he could hear Harry better. "Is there any of it left?"

"Um …"

Ron pressed his ear against the gap as he heard Harry scrabbling around amongst the rocks.

"Sort of," said Harry. "I'm not sure how much good it will do you."

"Shove it through," said Ron. Even if it was just the security of _having_ a wand, it was better than having nothing at all.

He saw the wand appearing through the tiny gap as Harry pushed it through. It was black and the Spellotape had melted around it. It was good for nothing.

"We're wasting time, Ron," Harry called to Ron. "You have to go on and find Ginny."

"Yeah, find Ginny." Ron looked around himself and down at his blackened wand. It wasn't much but he felt completely useless without a wand at all. "Try and shift some of that rock," said Ron, trying to keep his voice steady. "So I can – y'know – get back through."

"See you in a bit," called Harry. Ron thought Harry's voice sounded a bit shaky too.

There was a heavy pause as Ron wondered if he'd get back at all. He wasn't Harry Potter: what could he do? He didn't even have a wand and felt a bit cross that Harry hadn't offered him his own but he didn't want to ask for it. He breathed in. Ginny needed him. He felt a flutter of panic at the thought of losing her and his fist tightened on his wand. He set off alone to the distant noise of Harry straining to shift rocks.

"Are you a wizard or what, Harry?" he called back crossly.

"What do you mean?"

"_Wingardium Leviosa,_ you prat!"

Harry barked a nervous laugh. "Right!"

"Just remember - the top ones first, mate." He shook his head. It always made him laugh how his Muggle-raised friends sometimes forgot they had magic. He didn't laugh now though - the sickening feeling of fear stopped the laugh in his throat as the tunnel turned and turned again. What would he find at the end? The feeling of panic increased. What if he was too late to save his little sister? His skin crawled at the thought as he rounded another bend but was met with a solid wall on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

Ron swore, although the word came out in a rasp. He was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to open the door. "I'm not a bloody Parselmouth," he muttered. But Ginny, he thought madly. I have to try!

Ron screwed his eyes shut and tried to remember the low hissing sounds Harry had made by the sink. He tried them several times and suddenly, the serpents parted and the wall cracked open into two halves which slid out of sight.

Now trembling with adrenaline, Ron entered the Chamber of Secrets.

It was a very long, dimly lit chamber, its high ceiling supported by towering pillars entwined with carved serpents. A greenish gloom filled the place. His breathing seemed so noisy. Would it attract the Basilisk? He walked forward, his steps sounded shockingly loud as they echoed around the walls. As he drew level with the last pair of pillars, he saw a statue towering above him, as tall as the ceiling itself. He didn't linger long on the details of the statue: he knew that wouldn't be where he would find Ginny. He cast his eyes down again and there, at the statue's feet, lay a small, black-robed figure whose red hair was unmistakeable.

"Ginny!"

Ron ran to his sister, flinging his wand aside for the useless charred stick it was, as he dropped to his knees and turned her over. She was so cold and her face was bloodless but Ron could see she wasn't Petrified. Well, Ron couldn't help her here; he had to get her to Madam Pomfrey. She'd know what to do.

"Come on," Ron said, as he reached out to put his arms under her to carry her. "Let's get you out of here."

"I don't think so," said a soft voice.

Ron's head snapped up to see a tall, black-haired boy leaning against a pillar. Ron blinked as he realised the boy was blurred around the edges as if Ron was looking at him through a mist.

"Who are you?" said Ron. "And stop standing around and help me. My sister's hurt."

"Your sister? I should have known." The boy looked at Ron's hair and robe disparagingly. Ron felt a burst of anger. Why was this school full of gits like this? It didn't surprise him to see the boy was a Slytherin.

"Yeah, I'm a Weasley. Ron Weasley! Big deal! How about if a Slytherin could just help someone - _just bloody once_ - rather than making a song and dance about the colour of my hair or my bloody second-hand robes. My sister's ill and l'd like some help here!"

The boy laughed. "There's no help for her and you're going nowhere. Not until it's finished anyway."

"Until what's finished?" asked Ron, his eyes narrowing as he began to form a suspicion that this boy might be involved.

The boy looked at Ron slyly. "So you're _his_ friend, are you? That's interesting. You may yet be useful."

"Whose friend? What're you talking about?" Ron yelled in frustration.

"Oh, I know all about you, Ron Weasley." The boy pointed just past Ginny's body and Ron saw Tom Riddle's diary on the floor. His head seemed to spin as his mind raced putting together the pieces of the puzzle before him.

"Tom Riddle's diary? What do you know about that?"

The boy's chest puffed out and Ron noticed the prefect badge on his chest. Now that he looked at him more carefully, he noted the old-fashioned hair-cut, the old style prefect badge, the cut of the robe. It couldn't be, could it? Was this the ghost of the boy Harry had seen in the diary?

"I? I _am_ Tom Riddle. It's my diary your little sister has been telling all her silly secrets and worries to, all her pitiful insecurities. I know all about you and your brothers and how you tease her." Then he paused and looked at Ron more intensely. "And her crush on your best friend, Harry Potter. I know all about him, too."

Ron's jaw dropped in exasperation and annoyance. "So what? You want his autograph? Help me get Ginny out and I'll introduce you!" he said sarcastically.

"_His _autograph!" Riddle snapped, glaring balefully at Ron. "You really don't understand, do you? She has been pouring her heart out into my diary for months. Or should I say, pouring her soul into it?" Riddle paused. "And the more she confided in me, the more she trusted in me," Riddle smiled unpleasantly, "the easier it was for me to start feeding your sister a few of _my _secrets, to start pouring a little of _my _soul back in _her_ …'

Ron felt as if his blood had frozen in his veins. How many times had his father warned them about magical objects? _'Never talk to anything if you don't know where its brain is,'_ his father had always said. Ron had always thought his dad was a little mental but now he understood he had been trying to warn them about Dark objects that could control them.

"No!" Ron gasped as he looked at his sister's face and rubbed her cold hand.

"Yes, Ron Weasley," said Riddle softly, watching Ron's distress. "Your sister opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed the threatening messages on the walls. She set the serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods and the Squib's cat. She didn't _know_ what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her diary entries. _Dear Tom," _he recited, smiling at Ron's growing horror, "_I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there. Dear Tom, I can't remember what I did on the night of Hallowe'en, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me … There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad … I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!"_

Ron's stomach lurched sickeningly. Percy had noticed; why hadn't he? What kind of a brother was he not to notice his own sister under an enchantment? Riddle was still droning on, crowing about how long it took Ginny to lose faith in the diary and how disappointed he was that it wasn't Harry here instead of Ron when he'd taken the trouble to show Harry how he had captured Hagrid.

"I told Harry you sounded like a right piece of work telling on Hagrid like that. Why are you so keen on meeting Harry anyway? D'you want to join his fan club?"

Riddle's jaw clamped tightly in anger. "I want to know how a baby with no extraordinary magical talent managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time. How did he escape with nothing but a scar but Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed? Well, you're his friend – you tell me!" Riddle's voice seemed to ring with command, but Ron was too upset and angry to be swayed by it.

"What the hell's that got to do with you? You're just a bloody ghost!"

"I am no mere ghost, Weasley. And very soon, I will be very much flesh and blood again, thanks to your sister." A condescending half-smile formed on Riddle's face. "I am the heir to the great Salazar Slytherin. I am the wizard who opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago. I am the wizard who preserved my sixteen-year-old self in the pages of a diary so that, one day, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps," he bragged as he sneered at Ron. "At school I was known as Tom Riddle but my more intimate friends were already using the name I fashioned for myself – the name I knew wizards everywhere would fear to speak – wizards like you, Weasley." Riddle stood very straight as he sneered down at Ron. "I am Lord Voldemort."

Blood pounded so heavily in Ron's ears, he could barely hear anything else. His sister had been possessed by the most feared Dark wizard of the age and was near to death as this Slytherin git stole her life from her, and all You Know Who wanted to talk about was Harry!

"You're really pissing me off, y'know," shouted Ron, trying desperately to think of anything he could do stop Ginny dying.

"You're quite coarse, aren't you?" said Riddle. "They really do let anyone in Hogwarts these days. Even filthy little blood-traitors, like you." His lip curled in an ugly sneer.

Ron leapt to his feet, and looked around for his wand, but it had disappeared.

"Looking for this," said Riddle, holding Ron's charred wand between the tips of his fingers.

"Give that back!"

"Why? It's practically useless. Of course, in the hands of the greatest wizard of all time, even this poor stick of charcoal can finish you off with an appropriate spell." He raised the wand and pointed it at Ron.

"Greatest wizard of all time?" barked Ron angrily. "Don't make me laugh. Everyone knows Dumbledore's the greatest wizard of all time. Bloody hell, my best mate beat you when he was in still in nappies!"

Riddle's face contorted with fury, and his eyes appeared to glow red and he hissed, _"Maledict Incendio!"_

What was left of Ron's wand disintegrated as the short burst of cursed fire shot forward as Ron dived and grabbed the diary to shield himself, knowing in his heart of hearts that a mere book probably couldn't help him.

There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream and Ron realised it wasn't him. As he opened his eyes, he saw the diary in front of his chest had a hole blasted in its centre and ink was spurting out in torrents, streaming over his fingers and down his arms. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then …

Riddle had gone and Ron was sure he could hear music. Perhaps the blast had hurt his ears.

Ron stared and looked around himself just to check that Riddle really had gone. Then he looked at the dripping diary and realised how much his hands were shaking. The trilling music became louder and he saw a red and gold bird flying down to where he was kneeling and peered at him with black, beady eyes. It didn't seem to want to harm them.

"Bloody hell," he mumbled and he looked down on his sister again. He felt his stomach flip with relief as he saw pinkness suffuse her cheeks again and she moaned faintly.

"Ginny? Ginny?" he said softly, rubbing her hands between his as his mother always did when one of them was ill. "It's all right, Ginny. I'm here."

She drew a great, shuddering gasp as her eyes flew open and then burst into tears.

"Ron – oh, Ron – it was _me_, but – I s-swear I d-didn't mean to – R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over …"

"I know, Gin," said Ron and held the diary out to her to show her the blast hole. "He told me all of it. He tried to curse me but killed the diary instead. He's finished." Ginny sniffled and then her eyes went wide.

"He tried to c-curse you?"

"Yeah," said Ron, looking at the diary again and starting to feel even shakier than before. "Let's get out of here. I don't fancy meeting that bloody Basilisk, do you?"

Ginny's eyes became even rounder and she shook her head. Ron grabbed her hand and helped her to stand and the red and gold bird took off and flew along the Chamber and waited for them, hovering by the Chamber entrance.

Ron and Ginny left the Chamber, and the doors closed with a hiss behind them, and they followed Fawkes along the dark tunnel, as Ginny still sniffed. "I'm going to be expelled!" she said, trying not to cry any more.

"Blimey, Gin," sighed Ron. "I just want to get out of this place before I worry about that. I'll tell them everything Riddle said, and I've brought this to show Dumbledore." He showed her the diary again. "He'll know what to do."

He tried to sound brave, although he wasn't sure that he and Harry wouldn't be expelled as well. Then he heard Harry incanting _Wingardium Leviosa_ and stones moving up ahead.

"C'mon, Gin!" he said and they ran forward. "Harry! Ginny's OK! I've got her!" shouted Ron.

"Fantastic!" Harry yelled back.

They turned the corner and saw Harry grinning at them through a large gap he'd made in the rock-fall. Harry grabbed Ginny to pull her through and Ron followed.

"What happened? Are you both okay? What – what's Fawkes doing here?"

The bird had swooped through the gap after Ron.

"Who's Fawkes?" asked Ron, peering at the bird again.

"Dumbledore's phoenix," supplied Harry. "So, what happened?"

"I'll tell you later," said Ron, looking at Ginny who was still crying. "We need to get out of here."

Of course, he'd tell Harry everything, but Ginny was too upset to have him repeat everything just now. "Where's Lockhart then?"

"Back in the tunnel," said Harry. "I think his charm backfired on him. He doesn't know who he is."

They followed Fawkes all the way back to the mouth of the pipe and found Lockhart sitting there, humming placidly to himself.

"Do as you would be done by, my mum always says," said Ron, really not feeling much sympathy for Lockhart. "Serves him right."

Harry bent down and looked up the long, dark pipe.

"Don't know how we're going to get out," Harry said just as Fawkes swooped past him, fluttering in front of him, waving his long golden tail feathers.

"He looks like he wants us to grab hold …" said Ron. "But we're much too heavy for a bird to pull up there."

"Fawkes," said Harry with a big smile, "isn't an ordinary bird …"

**~FIN~**

_A/N: So what changes?_

_The Basilisk lives. Not a problem in itself: it's been safe for fifty years without a Parselmouth to control it. But if Dumbledore wanted to, he could get Harry to take him (and a borrowed cockerel or two) to the Chamber, I think._

_Tom Riddle suffers from Evil Overlord Syndrome and he has to brag. Luckily enough, he told Ron enough for Dumbledore to work out about the horcruxes._

_The Sword of Gryffindor originally despatched the Gaunt ring, the locket and Nagini. However, it is now not impregnated with Basilisk venom. How will the horcruxes be despatched? If Dumbledore kills the Basilisk, he can use the fangs (as with the diary and the cup) or he can use Fiendfyre (as with the diadem). The killing curse worked on the horcrux in Harry himself._


End file.
